Page 53 of The Promises We Were Never Meant To Keep

Holt chuckles deep and low as he rises from the edge of the bed. He prowls across the room to stand close. Then he dips his head to murmur in my ear, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, Faye.”

“Oh, God.” I try to cover my face with my hands, but Holt catches my wrists before I can.

“I can’t wait to see it again.” He kisses me. “And again.”

I whisper-hiss, “We almost got caught!”

“Then I guess next time we’re going to have to do it where we won’t get caught.”

22

BIG DECISIONS

JULY 2008 – 16 YEARS OLD

“Idon’t think I need this.”

Mom lets the National Geographic magazine flip closed in her lap. A picture of penguins standing in the sun on dry, beachy land, stamps the cover with a headline talking about African Penguins. Who knew Africa had penguins? Not me, that’s for sure. It’s cool to learn, though.

“You need this.” When I open my mouth to argue, Mom pats my knee. “You need this, Faye. Your dad and I have talked, and we both agree, things are getting serious with Holt. It’s the kind of serious that can seriously affect your future.”

My eyes drift away from the way hers threaten to drill into me.

I nibble at an imaginary hang nail as I mumble quietly, “We’re not doing that yet.”

“Yet.”

I think I’m going to erupt in flames. I swear, the old lady sitting on my other side clutching her A&W coffee is listening to our conversation raptly. I’m undoubtedly going to be the topic of conversation during her next coffee date.

I’m so hot I could melt. If only I could melt into the cracks between the tiles.

A middle-aged lady in light blue scrubs appears with a blue laminated sheet in her hands. “Faye,” she calls.

Mom squeezes my knee. “That’s you.”

As if I don’t know my name. Now A&W lady knows it too, for her gossip session with the hens.

At least Mom booked with a female doctor. If I had to look into the eyes of a man as I pled my case of not needing birth control, I probably would have died. I’m so embarrassed.

She’s with Mom. She doesn’t agree that it’s not needed and has made her case pro birth control plainly clear. Something about rampant hormones and big feelings.

As it is, I can hardly hear her. There is a ringing between my ears.

“Faye?” I blink, my gaze finding the doctor’s.

“Sorry,” I croak.

She smiles kindly. “As I said, I agree with your mother that birth control is a smart decision. You’re young, hormones play a significant part in the acts of someone your age, and you’re in a serious relationship.”

“We’re just not doing that yet.”

Like Mom, she says, “Yet.”

My blush deepens. I just want to get this over with.

Her smile is kind and gentle. “Although I agree with your mother, I can’t make you take anything you don’t want to take. So, I’m going to need you to consider all I’ve presented you with here today and decide for yourself if protecting yourself from pregnancy is something you would like to do.”

I swallow. It burns.